Angels Are Watching Over You
by AshlynDecia
Summary: Castiel had been a part of your life for a long time. But when he shows up just a little off things start to unravel. Secrets reveal a family you"ve never known. Can you all hold the pieces together or will they become just another memory? ** Feedback appreciated**
1. Chapter 1

_This idea just popped up and took on a life of its own through the writing. I have some really interesting ideas for this if you all would like to see it continue. Looking forward to feedback :)_

* * *

"Ah, crap!" you moaned as you drug yourself into a sitting position leaning against the cold concrete wall. The slow movement caused the long scratches down your side to ooze blood more profusely, soaking the top of you jeans and sticking to your thighs. Stomach rolling and mouth dry, you tried to mentally assess what all was bleeding but your thoughts came fuzzy and the dots on the edge of your vision told you that unconsciousness was coming quick and fast.

Suddenly a bright flash of light sparked far off to the left and muffled footsteps approached. In another time, this would have put you on edge and a blade would be in your palm. However this was not the first time a flash of light had appeared just when you needed back up. Sure enough, moments later, long warm fingers pressed into your forehead and you felt the slits up your side and the rib that was apparently broken mend.

The glitter and shades around your eyes faded and then you could see him standing before you. Short dark hair topping a simple, stern face that was pierced with two crystal-blue eyes. Eyes that were filed with concern as they waited for you to rouse. He was crouching down, his tan trench coat pooling near his sensible shoes. Tie pulled in a loose knot and shirt ridiculously clean, Castiel looked the exact same as the last several times you'd seen him.

Running a dry tongue across parched lips your croaked his name in thanks.

"Sh, sh, sh," he whispered as he swooped under you, lifting you effortlessly like a rag doll. As much as you appreciated him saving your bacon, being treated like a damsel in distress was frustrating. Weakly, you pushed with both hands against his deceptively solid chest. Rolling his eyes, he brought his fingers up to your forehead again and you blacked out.

When you came to, you were laying in the dingy motel bed you had rented four nights ago. Shifting under the blanket tucked around you, you could tell that your bloody clothes had been striped off and replaced with clean cotton shorts and a t-shirt. Curious fingers ran up the side of your stomach and you felt the odd tingle of knowing there should be a scar from the werewolf scratch but there wasn't. Sucking in a deep breath, you could tell your ribs were fine and the weakness was finally gone.

Pushing on the stiff pillow, you sat up and your eyes immediately found the knees and clasped hands sitting in the chair in the far corner of the motel room. Now it was your turn to rolling your eyes.

"Castiel," was all you said and he leaned forward, the moonlight catching the angles of his face. You felt that same bubble appear in your stomach again. Even time he appeared, you felt a little pull. Despite the fact that he was stoic and just a little condescending. "Thanks," you finally added.

"You're welcome," he ground in that familiar, gravelly voice as he made to stand.

And just like that the bubble popped because you knew he was heading for the door.

"Wait," came out before you could stop it and he froze, not looking at you. Shifting awkwardly, you fished in your brain for something else to say. Something you besides the "why" you'd asked a hundred times before. "Can't you stay?" again it was unbidden and you felt your cheeks flush as a result.

"I could but I was under the impression that my presence was irritating," he stated matter-of-factly, turning to look at you innocently.

"No, I… Would like it if you stayed," forcing a smile and keeping eye contact. He returned the smile. Not waiting for something to change, you scurried from the cocoon of blankets. Hurrying about you made coffee with the crappy little percolator in the corner of the room. Setting the foam cups on the fake laminate table, you settled into one of the 70's style orange chairs, pulling your feet up beside you.

A look of confusion waved across his face and you wondered again just what he was. He walked and talked like a man, mostly. But he could appear and disappear far too quickly, he was unaccustomed to most social situations, and then there were the magical healing powers. But you had decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth until it bit you.

"Please," you gestured to the steaming black cup across from you,"sit down and have some coffee. We can talk," you explained trying to be as clear and polite as possible. His face cleared and he shuffled over, settling gracefully into the chair. Slowly, he lifted the cup and sipped the steaming liquid. His face was blank as he set it down and looked up at you. You couldn't help but smile.

"So, right time, right place again huh?"

You woke up, a thread bare motel blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sleeping crunched into that little chair. You remembered drinking coffee and talking with Castiel most of the night. At some point you must have drifted off and he covered you up to keep you warm. Looking around you saw the paper cups in the trash and the motel key in the bowl by the door. But no sign of Castiel.

Rising and stretching, you set about the familiar routine of packing up after a job. Thirty minutes later you threw everything into the trunk of your camaro, slid behind the tan leather wheel and twisted the engine to life. Slowly you pulled onto the empty highway and rolled out of town.

A few hours later, you parked outside a mom-and-pop dinner on the state border. Fishing out a few quarters, you bought a paper and then scooted into an empty booth. An hour later, you were breakfasted and had found some really fishy headlines about disappearing kids two states over. Leaving a few bills on the table, you headed out falling seamlessly back into everyday life.


	2. Chapter 2

_So I am about half way through the ideas I have for this story but it is subject to change via feedback._

* * *

Another town, another hunt, another diner. Over and over the cycle continued. Luckily, you'd managed to stay in one piece through these jobs. However, that meant no more mysterious run-ins with your guardian angel, as you thought of him. Not that you were itching for stitches or a cast but a little part of you that you pointedly ignored missed Castiel more that you realized.

But you had work to do and that was enough to occupy your mind. Things had definitely picked up recently; specifically demonic activity. Three years ago demons were pretty rare but recently you had become much more efficiently in your methods, not by choice.

Having just finished a smattering of possessions by a demon with a blonde fetish, you were hiding in the back of a little breakfast joint, drinking strong high-test and pushing soaked pancakes around your plate. Your nose was buried in a book you had swiped from the hide-out of the monster; tucked inside a People magazine of course.

The bell tinkled and instinct pulled your head up, expecting to see an old farmer or Grandma Mabel here to meet the Euchre ladies. Swearing softly under your breath, you slowly but firmly pulled her cap lower and your book higher to conceal your face. Shifting, you pressed your thigh to the wall just to make sure your pistol was in place.

Sam and Dean Winchester had just strolled into the diner. You had run into them once, a few years ago. Cleaning out a vamp nest had attracted more blades… and fangs than you'd bargained for. Sam, Dean and another hunter named Mark had shown up. The fight had been heavy and lasted longer than it should have but in the end you were all bloody and Mark had gotten stabbed. He bled out before any of you had been able to find him. The three of you had taken care of the body but you had been the one that had bothered to track his mom down and let her know what had happened, sort of. Her face, crumpled and red, was still seared into your memory.

The whole experience had left a bad taste in your mouth when it came to the Winchesters. Besides, if half the rumors going round about these boys were true, you wanted even less to do with them. Fortunately, they parked in the booth furthest from you. Not missing a beat, you quietly left cash and slipped through the door. Tossing the book into the passenger seat and quickly taking leave, you heaved a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Ah… Ah… dammit," you laid still on the cold stone, heaving in a deep breath. What the hell was that thing? Silver, iron, salt… nothing fazed it. It just kept coming, so fast. And then… you'd seen some stuff but you'd never seen something with that many teeth…

Pressing your hand over the jagged flesh of your thigh, you pressed into the wall so that you could stand up. As you jerked your head back, the warm trickle down the left side of your face told you that there was a gash somewhere in your hair line. And you were fairly sure you'd fractured your left wrist. Still, you could hear that thing up the elevator shaft and you knew that you had to put some distance between it and you.

You found a door and flung it open, cold night air pouring through, causing your breath to catch. An annoying, drizzly rain misted around you, heavy clouds blocked up the light from the stars above. Pain started to slam into you like a drum and the limp grew more profound as you struggled through the alleyway. Then the door slammed behind you and your stomach was in your mouth. How was it that fast?

Pouring on what little speed you had left, you felt warm blood course down your leg as you tried to get away. But the calm measured footsteps of that thing that looked so human were closing in. And then your foot caught on some piece of doomed garbage and you fell. Scrabbling and twisting, you pawed for your knife. The figure hunting you was passing between shadows and dim shafts of light from the street lamps. He was smiling.

It was a few seconds before you remembered that your knife was on the fourth floor of the building you were looking at. But your gun was still strapped to your back. Closing your hand around it, you whipped it around and fired.

BANG. BANG.  
And still the creature kept coming, barely flinching back each time the bullet hit flesh.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A few feet away now, his face, still fractured by that disgusting smile, started to peel back and row after row of needle sharp teeth appeared. Swallowing hard, you clenched your eyes shut and pulled your gun back, feeling the cold metal press into the side of your temple. You were realistic enough to know that hunter don't live long lives but you were not about to before monster chow… or worse if you could help it.

Suddenly you heard a soft flutter and the cold, grating asphalt beneath you became coarse yet yielding blankets. And that familiar warmth that you hadn't felt for years pulsed through your ravaged body. Flesh and bone knit together and your thigh stopped throbbing, your wrist stopped aching and the crackling on you cheek told you that the dried blood was drifting off.

Blinking hard a couple times, that stern face with those crackling, blue fire eyes appeared just inches from your face. Glancing down, you saw that familiar tan trench coat but where the loose fitting tie should have been there was only a simple white cotton shirt that matched the pants.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, in the same gritty voice yet there was a lilty swish behind it that told you something was different.

"Better," you said, smiling. You hadn't seen Castiel in years, not since that motel in Arkansas. To be fair, you hadn't been in a bad scrape since that night. Having fallen in a with a group for a few years, your six had been fairly well covered. But hunters had been dropping quick and fast recently and you'd dropped off on your own again, after Tammy.

Man, had that been a mistake. That thing had popped up pretty quickly and stuck hard on your trail. And you still had no clue what it was.

You smiled again as you finished sitting up. Castiel was seated on the edge of the bed, looking serenely peaceful. He smiled back, a small awkward gesture. There was something different, something a little off about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. Still, it was nice to see him. A small part of you was sad because that familiar knot of excitement that always accompanied his visits wasn't there. Maybe too much time… or blood had passed. Maybe it was the change in him that you noticed. Maybe it was the your own cynicism stealing away younger dreams. Either way, it caused you to furrow your brows.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"No… nothing," you murmured, not sure you wanted to launch into all of that. But still he looked at you quizzically, for so long that eventually it was you that broke the gaze.

"You can see it," and he gestured toward himself like there was a sign somewhere explaining the changes you did see.

"Well, you look great," there was the familiar flush and you knew your cheeks were reddening.

"Thank you. I think I look to thin but I guess this is just me now. Jimmy has not been here for a very long time," he stated like he was reciting directions.

"Castiel, who's Jimmy?" you paused him, catching the weird phrase. It was enough to set you on edge. For a long pause, you both sat there equally confused but for very different reasons before his face soften and he sighed, like he had remembered something very important.

"Oh, right. I never told you I was an angel."

After the initial shock, wild attempt escape and broken furniture you finally calmed down long enough for Castiel to explain… and show you that he wasn't crazy. Then followed several hours of conversation; well, mostly question and answer. Several times the conversation had left you feeling like a house had been dropped on you; so much of what you understood and believed took a major shift.

Castiel filled you in on what he had been up to the last few years. You know- nothing too extreme; just rebelling against heaven to stop the Apocalypse. Then working with the King of Hell to find and imbibe purgatory in order to trump the archangel Raphael in a civil war. But that apparently went south, along with Sam's mind. Which brought them to now. Leviathans, recently sprung from purgatory, were currently running shot over pretty much everything. And Cas- he had broken the wall in Sam Winchester's mind that had been holding back the hell-driven madness. And, after some real show stoppers, when Cas figured out that he couldn't put the wall back he had taken Sam's madness upon himself.

That was who sat on this weary little mattress with you. A twice restored angel who'd fallen from a pedestal grappling with the kind of insanity that only an archangel could inflict. Processing all the facts and dates and names had taken some time and you sat, breathing deeply like you'd been plunged into icy water. But when everything was finally filed and stored, and a fifth of whiskey that had magically appeared was empty, one thought struck you. "You came for me," you whispered, a thick catch in your throat.

"You… you… all this… with everything going on… and you came for me." Castiel smiled.

"I will always come for you. You are important," he smiled and suddenly that little bundle of energy pushed against the bottom of your ribs and before you could stop yourself, you flung your arms up and around his neck, pushing your face into the soapy, woody smell of his jacket. After a moment or two, large warm hands pressed into your back and you felt safer, calmer than you had in a very long time.


	3. Chapter 3

When you'd awoken, much to your surprise he'd still been there, sitting serenely on the window sill face the sun as it rose. Watching the golden orange rays catch on the stubble across his chin, you couldn't help but smile.

You are important.

Maybe things would be different this time.

"Morning," you mumbled.

"Good morning. I hope that you slept well," when you nodded he continued, "I should get… back. Meg is going to be looking for me soon. I think that you should come with me."

The mention of another person jarred you slightly. Meg? For most your adolescence, Castiel had appeared in the moments you needed him the most and, up until that very last visit, he had never stayed longer than was needed to see you well. Now, Castiel 3.0 was still here the next day and he wanted you to come with him.

Despite being exactly what your fifteen year old self had always ways, ten years later it made you uneasy. Something big was happening out there; these leviathans sounded like pretty bad news. But you knew how to lay low, keep out of sight. Why would Castiel feel the need to take you with? What wasn't he telling you?

Still, side by side with an angel was better than being Levithan chow in the back alley of some no name town. So you nodded. Five minutes later, duffle bag stuffed, hair tied bag, and clean clothes on, you stood looking expectantly at Castiel, your keys dangling from your fingers.

"So where are we headed?" you asked, drawing him from his reverie by the window. He looked back at you and smiled. Then he rose, walked over toward you and kept his eyes locked on yours as he reached for your empty hand. You felt the pressure and warmth just before the world faded and you felt like you were floating through nothingness. Seconds of oblivion and then your feet hit solid ground.

Glancing around quickly, you could tell that you were in a hospital room. Castiel slowly released your hand and gestured toward the empty sterile white seat. Taking the hint you sat down before he walked to the small, wire-crossed window in his door. Glancing left and then right, he smiled and walked back to the bed.

"She's coming," was all he said and you were left waiting for a long moment before the door opened.

Immediately the smell of sulphur, albeit weak, hit your nose and the hairs on the back of your neck bristled as a woman entered. She was dressed in the simple white cotton scrubs you would expect to see on a nurse. Her wavy black hair was pulled loosely back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Skin smooth soft and white, she smiled as she looked around, pausing when her eyes hit you.

"Well, what do we have here? Castiel, have you been making friends?" she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Your mind started to race. For being an angel, Castiel was missing some pretty obvious demonic signs here. Maybe that mind-boggle was a little stronger than you realized. You needed to figure out how to get the message to him so the two of you could get out of here before you became hell-kabobs.

"This is Meg. My guardian angel," Castiel murmured and you snorted despite your best intentions. This was like a bad comedy skit. "Well, obviously not angel," he added and like a cue, her eyes clicked black while the both of you looked on.

Another douse of cold water. He knew that she was a demon and that was apparently okay? In fact, if you didn't know better, the twinkle in his eye and the curve of her smile suggested a little more than you wanted to acknowledge. That little ball of tension spiked like a knife and your eyes narrowed.

"Meg this is…" Castiel began.

"Oh I know who she is," she cooed in that silky, drawling voice that made the skin on your arms bud. That statement made no sense to you but you knew better than to try and get straight answers from a demon.

"Right," Castiel sighed, "Well, she had a rather personal run-in with a leviathan last night. I don't like the idea of her hunting alone. And she knows… pretty much everything now," that pause didn't go unnoticed. "I think you should call Sam and Dean," he added, eyes on Meg.

Her eyes glittered and she nodded, leaving the room without another word. Which was lucky because then she didn't see your eyes pop or your jaw hit the floor. You only knew one Sam and Dean and you had absolutely no idea why Castiel would be calling them after picking you up. Several theories started to fly through your mind as you sat, staring at the floor. You wouldn't look up at Castiel, although you could feel his eyes on your neck.

You realized that the only reason you had bought what he was selling was he was the closest thing to family that you had left. And that made you sad. Someone who pops in and out of you life at your worst moments over the course of ten years isn't exactly the thanksgiving dinner type. But still, after everything he was one of the only consistent things you had. In the last twenty four hours, everything you had known about him had been colored in a very different way and, even now, what he was doing was so confusing you couldn't even begin to work up a practical lead to explain it.

Then there was that little slit of betrayal that cut through everything that you were thinking.

Minutes of silence passed and you heard rather than saw Castiel get up and move towards you. Screeching, he pulled the other hospital chair over to sit opposite you, so close that your knees were touching.

"You're mad at me," it was a statement. It made you chuckle and then your body betrayed you, a hot tear slipped the leash of your lashes, leaving a wet blot on your gray sweat pants.

"What the hell, Castiel?" you whispered, the hurt dripping from you voice and your brought your eyes to his. Looking back at you there was pity, regret, loss, and… hope? It didn't make you feel any better because from where you were sitting all you could see were lies and secrets.

"I told you - you're important. For reasons you don't yet know. But I need you to trust me," he reached out and captured both of your hands in his, holding tight trying to anchor you to him, to trust him. "Please."

You looked hard into those endless blue eyes, hoping to see something that explained this and showed you what was going to happen. But you saw the same flecks and dots in different shades of blue and azure wrapped by the same spiky gray ring in the same stern stubbly face that you had been looking at for the last decade.

You trusted him. Could that be part of his angel mojo- willing people to trust him? You didn't know but you needed something- anything to hold onto right now. So you held onto that, despite your better judgment. Smiling, you returned the pressure of his hands and put your already tired head on his shoulder, waiting to see what came through the door next.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a long time before Meg returned. Darkness had melted down around the hospital and the only light in the room came from the little lamp near the bed that flickered every so often. So consumed with concern about what was coming, nothing really seemed to matter at the moment so you stayed where you were, with your head resting on Castiel's shoulder as he held your hands warmly in his own. Every so often he would talk; about nothing in particular like bees or rain and you would smile or nod. But eventually both of you returned to the heavy silence, your head turned away from the door.

When it creaked open well after all other sounds in the hospital had faded, you waited a moment before turning your head. By the time your eyes focused in the dim light, they were only a few feet from you. Sam, obnoxiously tall with waves of chestnut hair that surrounded a face that, had you not heard different, looked kind and concerned. Dean, on the other hand, was serious and edgy with eyes so similar to Castiels' although they were a clear, penetrating green. You couldn't help but stare that them because all your life people had always remarked how piercing your clear green eyes were and you'd never seen someone with them as well. It was unsettling to look at.

Not sure what to do, you stayed put, waiting for someone who obviously knew what was going on to make a move. Castiel squeezed your hands reassuringly before his body shifted and he stood, positioning you in front of him. The brothers watched you carefully, almost like you were a child that they were overly cautious around. Meg kept her post near the door, leaning casually against the wall trying to look bored but the sharpness in her eyes and rigidness in her shoulders betrayed her interest.

"Hey Cas," Dean said in a deep soothing voice, "How is the caged bird?" he quipped, tapping his forefinger on his temple. Castiel, or as Dean apparently knew him, Cas smiled and shrugged in a forced way.

"Things are still fuzzy and overlapped but other things are so much more clear. For instances, did you…" Cas started, cocking his head to the side as he started.

"Cas, ugh, you said it was important," Sam cut through his speech, brows furrowed.

"Of course, of course. My ugh… friend needs some help and I thought that you three might function in a happily symbiotic state," he finished his vague statement with a self-satisfied smile, oblivious the confusion it mixed into everything.

"You have friends besides us?" Dean chimed, face crinkled in disbelief and you smiled. Apparently you weren't the only one that latched onto random bits of information. Cas looked confused but Dean rolled his eyes and decided not to linger there, "Nevermind. Listen, Cas we'd love to play baby sitter but in case you've forgotten we're neck deep in Dick so ugh…" your eyes popped making Sam chuckle.

"Leviathans," he clarified and you paled slightly, seeing some of the connections between why Cas had called them.

"Exactly. She's an experienced hunter that has encountered them and would be helpful in tracking and decapitating," Cas explained, a firm hand on your shoulder. Stiffening your spine, you brought your chin up proudly, locking eyes with each of the brothers in turn, daring them to comment.

"Can I talk to you?" was all Dean snapped, eyeing the angel from squinted eyes, jerking his head toward the door. The two shuffled toward the rectangle of light, closing it softly behind them, leaving you, Sam and Meg standing uncomfortably.

"So you're a hunter?" Sam ventured. Part of you toyed with the idea of ignoring him completely but this was obviously important to Castiel so you wanted to at least make an effort.

"Yeah. Most of my life," you didn't return the question, already knowing enough about the infamous Winchesters. Memories flashed through your mind; your aunt's wedding, wendigos, seedy bar after scummy dive. But you stayed quiet.

"Alone?" he probed.

"Mostly," you replied, again keeping your answer short and impersonal.

"So you've dealt with the leviathans?" he changed the subject after a quiet moment.

"Yeah- I was laying low in a burg in Oregon when the thing popped up. It was fast and tough but Castiel… helped," you didn't want to be too transparent with him, despite what Castiel wanted. Years of hunter training aren't for nothing.

"It sounds crazy - but laundry soap. Burns 'em like salt on a spook," he prattled. That was when the door behind him clicked open and Cas and Dean came walking back in. Cas looked calm, reserved but a little deflated. Dean looked pissed and that didn't not make you feel better.

"Well, come on then, he barked and Castiel turned to you.

"You're going to go with them. They will help keep you safe and you try to keep them alive," he smile sympathetically, "I know that this is uncomfortable and confusing but I can't… I need to make sure that you're safe. Just trust me that this is what's best for now. It will all makes sense soon," then he hugged you, firmly and for a long moment. Pressing your head hard into his shoulder, you took a few deep breaths and kept yours eyes shut hard.

This was not what you had pictured yourself doing today. Or any day. Trusting an angel and riding shotgun with the Winchesters as some really freaky monsters took run. But it wasn't forever and once Castiel was gone, you didn't feel an overwhelming amount of commitment to the cause. The three of you walked out the door and you cast one last look over your shoulder at Castiel, who watched you leave.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam and Dean were easy to get along with, which surprised you considering everything that you had heard about them. Sam was easy going and personable, wanting to make you feel connected and safe. Dean wasn't as friendly but he turned out to be annoyingly protective, again so similar to the angel. But eventually the two of you built bridges through your love of classic rock and greasy food.

This fight that you stepped into turned out to be a lot more twisted than you realized. These leviathans, or chompers as Dean referred to them, weren't your run-of-the-mill monster. They were organized and determined with big goals and a big network. Dean and Sam were living off the grid, trying to stay alive and find a way to stop them.

But the work was straightforward. You enjoyed the routine and the people that you met, despite the fact that they didn't stick around long. But that was part of a hunters' life that you were at least familiar with. As time pressed on, you became "at home" around these boys. As much as you could be considering the three of you were holed up in some God-forsaken cabin literally in the middle of nowhere. The only visitors being the ghost of Bobby Singer, who scared you just a little more each time and Meg and Castiel, who made you just a little more uncomfortable each time.

But your emotions took a backseat as things started to heat up. In a roundabout way, you all had come across a spell that was supposed to blast the head leviathan, who referred to himself as Dick Roman, back to purgatory. Everything in the lore said that the chompers were useless without their leader; whether they would return dust to dust or just be easier to ice you all weren't sure but this was the most you'd had to go on in awhile. Besides, Dick's expedited take over of Sucrocorp had really pushed your hand.

So you had collected what you'd need; the bone of a saint, the blood of a fallen angel, a leader of demons, and an alpha. All mixed up and ready to go. Tomorrow was the day that all the dominos would fall, so you all spent a tense, awkward evening gathered together but each feeling like an island in that drafty little cabin.

Castiel had still been off but helpful, as much as he could be. That was until Crowley dropped the beat that there was more he wasn't sharing. But the sheer idea of wading into a battle was too much for Cas; he still felt the weight of all the deaths that had come about because of his choices. Despite that, Dean was desperate for his help.

You sat nearest the salt lined window staring unseeing at an old book. Sam was bent over the dirty little table, trying to occupy his mind with a crossword puzzle. Meg sat, staring off at nothing, not talking or moving. Castiel, meanwhile, was playing Uno by himself, smiling contentedly. You all tried to appear wholly uninterested as Dean walked over and sat down across from him.

"Cas, I need to talk to you," he said softly.

"Dean…"

"You don't want to jump into the jaws of death, that's... fine. How about we run a little errand?" Dean ventured, eyebrows raised hopefully. Cas nodded slowly and Dean clapped his hand over the angels shoulder, muttering directions to an old rundown barn.

It was nearly two hours later when you heard the roar of that old muscle car that you'd missed the last few months. The steady crunch and crackle told you it was nearly to the porch. Discarding your failed distraction, you headed to the door, happy that they'd made it back safely.

Dean looked considerably happier when he came to the porch. You assumed it was because his beloved Baby was back in the driveway. However, when Castiel followed up the stairs, he looked more stoic and determined than he had in a long time, more like the old Castiel. That did not make you feel better.

Trepidation continued to build when, instead of coming in, he gently pulled you onto the porch and shut the door, leaving the two of you standing alone. For a long heavy moment, he looked into your eyes and you swore that it wasn't flesh and blood that he was looking at. Somewhere, deep inside his gaze was running through the nooks and crannies of your very soul. The thought made you shiver.

"How are you doing?" he finally asked, again sounding more surly and even keeled than he had in a long time. It seemed such an odd question, considering what the morning would bring but you wanted to humor the wayward angel so you smiled.

"I'm good, Castiel," you still couldn't bring yourself to call him "Cas", "how are you?" He returned the smile.

"There are times I have been much, much better but for the here and now, in the path we follow, I'm okay," then his eyes grew sad, you weren't sure why but it made your knees weak. From nowhere, grimy little chairs identical to the orange 70's chairs that you two had sat in so long ago appeared behind each of you. Taking the hint, you sat down. He lowered himself opposite you clasped your hands and continued to hold your gaze.

"In your life and the life of those I love," you knew the flush on your cheeks betrayed you and you felt your stomach tighten, "I've often wished there were things that I could change. Make better or even just different. Sometimes there is an answer to my prayer and I help. But most of the time, I tend to make things astronomically worse."

"Castiel," you wanted to comfort him but he shook his head and continued.

"I've watched you grow from a small, outgoing bright eyed child into the cautious, calculating thinker that you are now. I know that trust doesn't come easily to you but I hope that you trust me."

"You know that I do."

"Which, in some ways makes this so much harder," you started to feel nauseous, "There are things that I haven't told you. Things that I truly hoped I would never have to tell you. But as your life unfolded and choices were made, it became clear that you would learn the truth sooner or later. A selfish part of me still hoped it would be so much later. But with everything the morning may or may not bring, I feel that I can no longer continue to keep this secret," he paused, heaving a great sigh and suddenly his eyes fell to the old wooden porch, as if he couldn't bear to hold your gaze.

"You grew up with Gail Elomen until you were 14. It was then that you learned about this world of hunters and nightmares. You could have turned and run the other way but, of course, you didn't. Really, you couldn't. You fell headlong into this life. A life that seemed easy, that you understood."

"Listen, I know…" but again he waved you down.

"But you never knew, never sought to find your parents," he spoke so softly yet the white hot spike that shot down your back caused you to jerk.

"Because they don't matter. They dumped me on my aunt without so much as a hello. Why would I want…"

"Because," he shuddered under the deep breath yet forced himself to meet your eyes, "Gail was not your aunt, she was your mother. Your father's name… was John Winchester."

A bullet or ton of bricks would have hurt less, left you feeling more whole. Rugs ripped out from under you and air evaporated from your lungs.

"No," came the halfhearted whisper. Castiels steady sorrowful gaze confirmed the truth in his words.

 _John Winchester…_

But that meant… your eyes shot to the little cabin not two feet away. Dean was sitting on the couch, just to where he could see the porch from the corner of his eye but he pretended to be occupied. Sam sat far too still at the table just in your line of vision. It was too much.

Rising to your feet, you walked a small circle, pulling shaking hands through your hair. Then you turned on the angel, that burning shard of betrayal catching fire.

"You knew! You've always… and you didn't… I could have… we could have," there were a thousand questions bolting through your mind; when, why, did he even know? But in front of all that you wanted to know was the fact that the one constant in your life, the one face you had always counted had lied to you your entire life. Angry tears spilled down your face as you backed away. As your back hit the railing, you twisted and flung yourself down the small flight of stairs, making to sprint into the cover of the trees.

"Wait," the angel yelled in a panic, causing you to turn on him one last time.

"You stay the hell away from me," you shouted, sending daggers from your eyes before turning and disappearing in the shadows and brush surrounding the cabin.


	6. Chapter 6

Running for a long a time, you finally stopped when your breath refused to come and the stitch lighting up your side threatened to rip you in half. Crumpling near the roots of a massive oak tree, you wrapped your arms around your knees and pressed your tear streaked face into you knees. But you were all out of tears, have run and sobbed your way through the forest. You shook, choking and squinted eyed alone in the pitch black.

Eventually your body stilled and you sat, staring at nothing, mind struggling to put the pieces of your life together.

You'd never had memories of life before your aunt since she had always told you that you were no more than a few weeks old when they dropped you on her doorstep. Lie. As a very young child, you had asked for stories about your parents and she had always described them lovingly if a little sad. Lie. She said they were good people who had made some tough choices. Lie. In the end, they had done what they saw as best bringing you to her. Lie.

But then she'd been ripped apart by some monster while you were hidden behind years of memories in the closet. And no one came. No one saved you. Truth. It was then, at fourteen, that you had made your own way. Castiel had first appeared a few years later, when you had made some mistakes with a salt and burn. He'd saved you.

Then began the repeating pattern; any time you needed help he would appear. For many years, you had various ideas about why he helped you. But a sour trickle burned your throat because now that you realized the only reason he had ever paid any attention to you was because of your bloodline.

A Winchester.

They had played starring roles in quite a few catastrophes over the last few years. Having spent time with them, you understood how much of that crap had been dumped on them simply because of their bloodline.

Part of you, deep down, wasn't horrified at the idea of having brothers but any kind of joy was so tinged by Castiel's betrayal it was hard to see.

You were so lost in your thoughts and emotions that you didn't hear the footsteps until they were about 6 yards away; not enough time to hide or get away. Guess it was time to face the music.

As the figure moved closer, the shadows melted back and you could make out the tall solid figure of Dean, hands stowed in his pockets, walking toward you, head bent. Without making eye contact, he came and sat beside you, facing the same nothingness that you had been studying. For a long time, the two you just sat there, bearing the burden of anger and hurt together.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"So Cas told you that…" he looked sideways at you and you nodded slowly as his voice tapered off.

"And you took off into the wilderness because…" his voice raising in query.

"He lied to me," having never been one for delicate lies, you figured honesty the best route in this situation. Dean nodded, smiling.

"He was trying to protect you, ya know?" those green eyes, so like your own, squinted back at you.

"Do you know that he never even told me that he was an angel? Not until the last time I saw him in Oregon..." the shrug and frown told you that really didn't surprise Dean and it didn't make you feel any better. "This. This is why I have trust issues," you snapped.

Dean laughed, uninhibited and honest. It made you smile and you felt the tension snap in your shoulders and your body relaxed ever so slightly.

"Listen- I'm not making excuses for him. He's old enough to know better. But," he raised his voice to stifle your argument, "I know that he cares about you. Angels just have a hard time showing it," you rolled your eyes. "I'm serious. Think about what we- what Cas has been through the last few years. The Apocalypse. An angel civil war. Being god. And now… Satan's turned his gourd into a salt shaker sans tequila. But despite all of that - he was always there when you needed him."

"Dean…"

"That is a gift hard to come by in this line of work. Seriously, I mean, there have been times…" his voice faded and lights glittered off his damp eyes. After a moment, he began again, "I can't make you understand his choices or forgive him but you know that in this life, we don't really have the time to hold a grudge," he held your gaze for a long moment, waiting to see what choice you would make.

You turned everything over in your mind. The betrayal, hot and sharp, couldn't be ignored. But neither could the truth in Dean's words; every single time you had needed Castiel- he had been there. If it weren't for him, you would be sitting here loathing him right now. You couldn't just pretend that everything was fine but you couldn't just cut Castiel out of you life.

Dammit.

Your shoulders sagged and you looked up at the cloud shrouded sky. Dean took this as a sign and finally let out the breath that he'd been holding. Suddenly a thought struck you.

"How long have you know?" you snapped suddenly, turning quickly to Dean. He smiled.

"Since the hospital," he murmured.

"Sam?"

"Doesn't know," you looked at him curiously, "It wasn't my news to share. I didn't want you to have…" You smiled and slowly, tilted your head down so it rested on Dean's shoulder. It was strange what words could do. A few hours ago, you'd never really thought about Dean and Sam as more than work partners for now. But now, sitting here under filtered starlight, you found a solace in the strong form of your… brother.

Even saying the word in your mind felt strange… foreign. And just a little vulnerable. He shifted and slid his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his warm side, protecting you from the nip of the night air.

You two sat like that for a long time, just taking comfort in the closeness of family. You realized it was the first time you'd found comfort in family in nearly a decade. Eventually the cold of the night made it through your leather boots and when your ankles started to numb, you shifted.

"We should probably head back," you murmured.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, helping you to your feet. Dusting off your pants, you shook your head and he slipped his hand into yours. You gripped his fingers, thankful for the warmth as you two started to venture through the trees, back to the little cabin.


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone was inside the cabin when the two of you returned. Taking a deep breath, you stepped in front of Dean and reached for the handle, pushing in the thin wooden door. Meg was in the same exact position she'd been in when you stormed off. Unbidden, her words from your first meeting trickled into from memory.

" _Oh I know who she is."_

It made your skin crawl to think that demons had watched your life, much as they had Sams. You pointedly ignored her as you stepped into the room. Sam leaped from the table.

"Are you okay?" he looked so panicked and concerned that you were sure Castiel had not filled him in on anything about your conversation. He looked genuinely concerned and interested. You really wanted to give him the respect of explaining this in a meaningful way. Smiling, you rubbed his forearm reassuringly.

"I'm fine Sam. I can explain everything but first I need to talk to…'' With a flutter the angel appeared a few feet behind Sam, looking more somber and serious than you'd seen him in years. His eyes carried concern and sorrow as he watched you interact with your brother. Squeezing his arm one last time, you moved past Sam and went to stand a few inches from Castiel.

"Can we…" and before you knew it, the two of you were standing in the most beautiful garden you'd ever seen. It appeared to be just after sunset.. Wherever you were. There were piles and waves of flowers in every color and shade imaginable. From blood red roses to small sparkling stephanotis, the smell of life wafted over every part of your body making your skin tingle. Feet away a massive old oak tree towered over the two of you, shading you and blocking the gentle breeze. Just near the foot of the tree was an old wooden bench.

Breathing deeply, eyes shut, you walked to the bench, listening as the angel followed. Seating yourself on the left, Castiel sat on the right side of the bench, facing you, waiting. Part of you wanted to reach out and clasp his hands in the same comforting way that he'd always done with you. But a small petty part stopped you and kept your eyes on the ground.

"Cas… I…" you began.

"I'm sorry," his voice was so soft and heartbreakingly sad that you looked up. It caught you off guard when tears rimmed the edges of those blue eyes. You smiled sadly, the corners of your mouth dipping. Tilting your head to one side, the spiteful side disappeared and you reached for his hands. Closing both of yours over one large, warm hand, you traced your finger over his coarse knuckles, reflecting on the fact that the angel in this vessel was so much older.

"I know Cas," for some reason the nickname seemed natural now, "It just hurt that you… lied," that last word that you delivered felt like such an indictment that you whispered it.

"To quote humanity, 'The road to hell is often paved with good intentions," he grinned apologetically. You smiled.

"I don't know where we go now," you whispered. Then long fingers were gently grazing your cheek, pulling your eyes back up to his. He looked sad but hopeful. For a long moment, it seemed like there were so many things he was going to say. His eyes traveled around your face, trying to pick a point to start. In the end he sighed.

"I'd like to earn your trust back, if you will allow me," he said evenly.

"I'd like that."

You returned to the cabin not long after, not wanting the others to worry. Castiel dropped your hand which he had taken during flight and quietly returned to his Uno game. Dean smiled at you from over his beer, some crappy kung fu movie on. Sam was seated next to him, trying to look casual but the interest in his eyes betrayed him.

You seated yourself in the gap between the two of them, an oddly intimate gesture you would've never thought of before. Sam seemed surprised but tried to play it calm. The shift of his body to avoid touching was comical though.

"Sam relax… we're family," you quipped. Then began a long conversation, pulling Castiel at various points during the conversation. During this odd little family meeting, you learned a little more about your own history. Turns out your aunt had been a hunter trying to get out. John had come to the rescue when things had gone south in a final job. One things had led to another and then John left three days later.

It was months before Gail had realized she was pregnant. By then, who knows where John was. Beside, according to Cas, their relationship had never been anything more than physical for either of them. So John never knew that he had a daughter. Gail had given you her last name, to play into the cover story and to protect.

It had been a small blow to learn that your dad never knew that you existed. As much as you tried to hide the feeling of loss, it must have flashed across your face. Cas, who was sitting cross legged on the floor, working on his Uno spread, reached a hand over, squeezing your thigh firmly.

"He would have been very proud of you," he said, looking you straight in the eye. Butterflies beat against your torso.

The clock chimed two o'clock in the morning. Sam's head was thrown back over the edge of the couch, his mouth open sleeping deeply. Dean, legs propped on the table and arms crossed, was dozing with his chin on his chest. You had scooted to the floor, feeling too warm between your giant brothers. Head resting on Sam's knee, you fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Castiel continued to play his game, mind wandering in so many different directions. It was only Meg who saw his wing, glossy and black, slowly curl around you as you slept.


	8. Chapter 8

Every cloud has a silver lining… That's the old saying. Obviously, whoever coined that treasure had never met a Winchester. Not every cloud; some clouds are just the savage thunder clouds that will levels towns and rip lives apart.

So many things could have gone wrong the next day so, of course, they did. And then some. You and Meg had made the melee entrance, with the play being to serve as a distraction that eventually disappeared to safety once you were sure the boys were in. You'd meet up inside. The two of you had been ready for chompers; not demons.

You stood with you back to the cold steel door, the last few seconds replaying in your mind. They had appeared out of nowhere and Meg had turned to you. For a breath, you thought that she was with them, here to betray you all and bring it crashing down. Then she'd flung her hand up and screamed GO. You felt invisible tethers jerked you towards the building and the heavy door snapped you in, slamming behind you. Screams and shout could be heard through the metal. After a breath, you hoisted yourself up and bolted into the hallways, still finding it hard to believe that a demon had just saved your bacon.

Finally finding Sam and somebody named Kevin, they quickly filled you in and the three of you hurtled towards the labs in the belly of the building. Meanwhile, you knew that Dean and Castiel were hunting Dick. Apparently, Castiel could ID the real Dick Roman, having spent time possessed by him. He was serving as a supernatural xray for Dean who carried the blood soaked bone that was supposed to end the beast.

Clearing the last flight of steps, the three of you whipped into a well lit, sterile lab just in time to watch Castiel jerk back on the head of a pompous looking Dick while Dean, face pinched in fury, plunged the weapon deep into his throat.

"Figured we'd have to catch you off guard," Dean ground out as the monster in front of his started to pulse and glow. Energy rippled off in toxic waves and suddenly there was an explosion of power and goo. Seconds later, noxious black slime covered everything and everyone in the room.

But that was not what made you stomach turn. Where the corpse of the monster, Dean and Castiel should have been standing there was nothing. No body. No Dean. No Cas. They were just gone. Still shaking and wiping junk off your face, you and Sam stood staring around dumbfounded.

"Sam, we should go," the young man called Kevin whispered.

"But what the hell?" Sam asked, looking around, looking at you.

"More chompers any second, guys," Kevin chimed again.

"Not to worry. I have a small army of demons outside. Cut off the head, and the body will flounder, after all. Think if you'd had just one king since before the first sunrise. You'd be in a kerfuffle, too," a silky sick voice purred from a stocky man clad in black as he stepped into the room. Sulphur and the mention of a demon army told you quickly this was Crowley.

"Which is exactly what you wanted," Sam said menacingly.

"So did you. Without a master plan, the Levis are just another monster. Hard to stomp, sure, but you love a challenge. Your job is to keep them from organizing," the King of Hell snapped.

"Where's my brother?"

"That bone... has a bit of a kick. God weapons often do. They should put a warning on the box," Crowley chattered as he circled the stainless steel table, running his fingers over vials.

"Where are they?" you finally snapped.

"Can't help you, love," he chimed and then snapped his fingers. Suddenly the same demons that had appeared when you and Meg had rolled up materialized next to Kevin.

"Sorry, Sam. Prophet's mine," and with another snap the three disappeared.

"You got what you wanted – Dick's dead, saved the world. So I want one little prophet. Sorry, moose. Wish I could help," and he vanished, leaving you standing next to your brother, devastated.


End file.
